Together Alone
by Aquila1
Summary: Maybe you should just let go" - Alex confronts Bobby after the events of Untethered.
1. Chapter 1

**Together Alone**

_By Aquila_

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to Law & Order CI, just the thoughts in my head.

**Rating**: T, for strong language

**Summary**: "Maybe you should just let go." - Alex confronts Bobby after his stunt in Untethered.

**Spoilers: **Untethered, but pre-Purgatory

**Author's Notes**: I started this story right after seeing Unteathered and wrote about three quarters of it before Purgatory aired. Unfortunately, I wasn't fast enough and seeing the next episode sent my muse off the rails for a while. This is a story in two parts. The second should follow shortly.

This isn't my first fanfiction by far, but my first for these characters. I hope you enjoy it.

As always, this is for Joy. Thanks for being the Toby to my Sam and always being there to bounce ideas off of.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

The dull thud of a deadbolt sliding open cut through the silence of the empty hallway. The vibration it sent through the flimsy apartment door ran up her arm, filling Alex with a strange sense of anticipation and foreboding. She was entering new territory and she didn't like it.

Slowly, she pulled the key from the lock, feeling each pin as they dragged along the groves in the small piece of metal. Finally free of the door, the key weighed heavily in her hand.

He'd said it was for emergencies.

It was sometime near the end of their second year as partners that he'd slipped the key into her hand in the middle of a stakeout. She'd been fighting sleep when she'd suddenly felt the cool metal and the warm brush of his fingers against her palm. Before she could raise an eyebrow in question, he'd it explained that because he was single, with no real family to rely on, it was only logical that she have a key to his apartment… for emergencies.

Robert Goren, the master of logic.

She'd laughed it off with some comment about probably having to dig him out from under a pile of Smithsonian magazines and life had gone back to business as usual.

She'd given him one of her keys a few days later, leaving it on his blotter with a cherry danish. The shy smile he'd flashed her across their desks made her wish she'd thought of it first.

That was the last thought she'd given to keys until tonight. Tonight, he wasn't answering his phone, wasn't answering his door. Tonight, he'd been suspended from duty pending a psych evaluation. Tonight, he'd only been out of the hospital for two days and she didn't know where to find him.

In Alexandra Eames' book, that constituted an emergency.

Alex had come to the realization in the last few weeks that she didn't like not knowing where her partner was. It wasn't unusual for Bobby to take off in search of a lead, but Alex always had a pretty good idea where he was and what he was doing. Despite all outward appearances, Alex had always been the one in control in their partnership… at least when it really counted.

Bobby may be the big, brash, brainy and somewhat bizarre Major Case detective, the one that made the headlines, dragging confessions out of more perps than a parish priest. But, what most people didn't notice, what never made the papers was that even with all of Bobby's posturing and postulating, Alex was the one holding the reins in her little hands. No one seemed to notice the subtle looks that would pass between them, the ones that asked _'Is this okay?'_ and the ones that answered _'Only if you keep me in the loop.'_ No one noticed how she could pull him back from the brink with just the power of a furrowed brow or calm an escalating conflict with his name or a gentle hand against his back.

Bobby Goren cast a pretty big shadow and it was easy to get lost in it. Some days it bothered her. She hadn't completely lost all sense of ambition, but most of the time she enjoyed the shade. She enjoyed it because it was a position she'd chosen, one that Bobby recognized and appreciated. He'd never really had much support in his life, so she'd accepted the role of touchstone a long time ago.

It was an odd arrangement, their partnership. They were a study in contrasts: his lumbering bulk, to her diminutive frame, his awkward, sometimes explosive personality to her quiet and often understated grace. It was a relationship that garnered a lot of whispers and bewildered looks even within their own squad, but it was comfortable and it worked.

At least it used to work.

Lately it felt as though someone had shoved a wrench in the gears. Communication was sparse and they'd been grating on each other's nerves. Alex's frustration only continued to mount as she felt him closing her out, making it harder for her to read him with each new day. Ever since his mother's death, it was as though Bobby had flipped the switch on his connection to her, breaking the circuit, and it scared her. It scared her because suddenly it felt like she was floundering while Bobby drifted farther away, digging into cases that only brought the both of them pain.

It had started a few months ago when he'd reopened her husband's murder. Suddenly, she'd found herself at the wrong end of Bobby's microscope and she'd resented it. Sure, he'd ended up bringing the real killer to justice after nine years, but he'd done it without asking, without realizing what he would put her through. He should've realized it. Two years ago, he _would have_ realized it, but instead he'd just ploughed ahead, ripping open a wound that had taken years to heal.

So she'd inflicted some wounds herself. Alex knew it was petty to let him believe a perp's assessment, to let him think that she felt tainted by her partnership with him. It played on his biggest fears of abandonment, but damn it, he'd hurt her and his continued distance was hurting her still. It was time he took some of his own medicine. Of course, it had only served to pull them further apart, stretching what cords were left between them even tighter.

And now … Alex sighed, leaning her forehead against the cool veneer of the door, clenching the doorknob tightly in her fist … now he'd gone and thrown himself into the jaws of his own personal hell, for what? To rescue a nephew he never knew he had? To quench his obsessive thirst for justice?

When he'd come to her with his plan to go undercover at Tate's Correctional, she should have stopped him. Two years ago, she _could've _stopped him. Instead, she'd sighed into the phone and couldn't even bring herself to try. She could feel his desperation even through the phone line. Whether it was for his family, his job or his partnership, she couldn't tell, but what she did know what that there was no way he wasn't going to do this. So, the least she could do was keep an eye on him. She was his partner after all. Weren't partners supposed to have each other's backs? Wasn't that the cliché of being a cop?

So, she'd agreed, against every ounce of better judgement, to play the role she'd always played, his link to the outside, his lifeline should things get out of hand. Against her better judgement, she'd let Bobby willingly face his worst nightmares, armed only with a phone number and her voice on the other end of the line. She'd let him go, hoping in some strange way that by doing this for him, by being there for him when no one else would, that maybe it might fix what was broken between them.

She should've listened to her better judgement.

Instead, Bobby had been tortured to the brink of everything he'd ever feared while Alex had had to run to their captain to save him. Instead, she was standing outside of his apartment door, clinging desperately to the last threads of their partnership, with no idea of what she might find on the other side.

'_Only one way to find out.' _

Squaring her shoulders, she sucked in a deep breath and finally pushed open the door …

He wasn't home.

Rooms felt different when he was in them. His apartment felt cold, empty, void of any life, as though he hadn't lived there for months and Alex conceded that this was essentially true. She'd always hoped that his mother's death would allow Bobby to finally live. She'd hoped that after caring for a schizophrenic for basically all his life, her death would have been sort of a release for Bobby. Apparently, that release hadn't come. In its place had come a kind of purgatory. She just didn't know if it was borne out of an unwillingness to move forward or an unfamiliarity with the steps.

As Alex ran her fingers through the thin film of dust that coated the breakfast bar, a wave of unexpected emotion lodged in her throat. When was the last time he'd eaten a proper meal? She didn't even want to hazard a guess as to when he'd last slept. It was probably around the last time she'd managed to keep her eyes closed for longer than a few hours.

Sighing, Alex pulled her leather jacket more tightly around her, warding off the chill that permeated the room. The desolation that seeped into her bones from every corner of the apartment only served to steel her resolve. They were going to sort this mess out and maybe, if they were lucky, they could move forward, relying on each other to help find those elusive next steps.

Moving deeper into the apartment, Alex scanned the room for a place to camp out and wait. He was going to have to come home sometime and when he did, she would be there, whether he liked it or not. Heaving another deep sigh, Alex decided on the worn wingback chair that occupied the far corner of the living room.

As she sank into the soft leather, a wave of Bobby-scented air wafted up around her, settling over her like a blanket. Suddenly, she felt the pull of exhaustion tugging her eyelids closed, begging her to rest eyes that felt like they hadn't shut in years. Lethargy crept into her brain and she marvelled at how she could relax so completely with just the hint of her partner's presence. Tucking her legs beneath her and settling deeper into the chair, Alex laid her cheek against the cool leather and let sleep slowly overtake her.

* * *

His door was unlocked.

Although every fibre of his being sagged with exhaustion, that simple fact didn't escape his notice. Bobby knew that he had been distracted when he'd rushed out in search of his nephew, but there was no way he wouldn't have locked his door. His hand dropped to his hip before he remembered that he'd had to surrender his gun a few weeks ago along with his badge and he had no idea when he'd get it back … if he'd get it back.

Now fully alert and frustrated with his lack of defences, Bobby carefully eased open the door, poised and ready for an attack. Creeping noiselessly deeper into the apartment, he scanned the darkened rooms for any sign of something amiss. Had Donny found him? Had one of Tate's employees decided to take revenge for his poking around where he wasn't wanted? The muscles in his shoulders complained loudly from the tension that strung through his spine like a bow.

This was the last thing he needed. He was still trying to find his way back from Tate's idea of 'heaven' and the stress of a possible intruder definitely wasn't helping matters. With each cautious step, the strain mounted, coiling ever tighter, threatening to snap. Finally, his eyes lit on his chair and all the breath left his body in a rush.

She was the last person he expected to find in his apartment, so it took Bobby a full minute to process that it was, in fact, his partner curled up in his wingback chair like a grown-up Goldilocks. She looked almost childlike, tucked into his dark leather seat. Her face scrubbed clean of its usual makeup, she was almost shockingly pale. His eyes were drawn to where her ash-coloured eyelashes gently grazed her cheeks, accenting a very pale dusting of freckles, a faint reminder of the young woman he'd never known.

He was immediately struck by how small she seemed, her legs folded up beneath her in the oversized chair. Despite their notable size difference, Bobby had never thought of Eames as small. She never failed to fill a room with her presence, making him forget that he had a good thirteen inches on her, even in her tallest heels. But now, hands curled under her cheek and knees pulled into her chest, she looked like a small child and Goren found himself struggling to figure out how to approach this woman he wasn't so sure he knew.

Rationally, he understood that there were sides to his partner that he'd never seen, but it bothered him on some deep, dark, unacknowledged level when he caught a glimpse of one of them. Most of the time, he could pretend that she was as completely invested in their lives as partners as he was. Then something would come up: a mention of her nephew, her sister, or now, the resurrection of her husband's murder that would brutally remind him that she had a life outside of their world together.

'_Then, it's not like you've been overly focussed on this world lately anyway.'_

The sudden thought left him cold. The most positive relationship of his life and he'd been letting it slip through his fingers. It felt as though he had been haemorrhaging uncontrollably for months. Everyone he cared about was slowly slipping away and it was all he could do to stem the flow: his captain, his brother, his mother and now his partner. Sure, Eames wasn't gone yet, but Bobby knew it was only a matter of time and that this loss would be the one to break him.

He'd already had a taste of that special kind of pain and fear when she'd been kidnapped a little over a year ago. He'd thought he'd lost her then and the hurt and confusion had been overwhelming, debilitating.

"_It's frightening when somebody goes away. Especially someone you love so much."_

His words to a suspect only a few days prior to Eames' ordeal continued to haunt him. The fear had been devastating and Bobby'd struggled even to function against the roller coaster of emotions. He'd been completely useless in finding her. Impotent. He'd failed her completely as a partner, as someone who … cared about her. Despite her assurances, it was something he'd never really managed to forgive himself for. She'd found her way back to him on her own, both physically and psychologically, and for the last year and a half he'd been trying to figure out what was making her stay.

Bobby had been so sure that when he was released from the hospital it would have been to the news that Eames had put in for a new partner. He'd been certain that this stunt would've finally cut the last cord that bound them together.

'_Then why'd you do it?'_ His inner voice demanded.

He wasn't sure when his inner voice had started sounding like his Eames.

Unable to come up with any answer that wasn't complete bullshit, he turned his gaze back to the woman sleeping only a few feet away. Alex Eames wasn't what one would consider a classic beauty, but she still turned her fair share of heads, both on the street and within the force. She was a study in contrasts, his partner. Barely clearing five feet in her heels, her luminous hazel eyes, up-turned nose and lithe figure gave her an almost fragile appearance… until you really looked. Those who took the time to notice saw the incredible strength that lay within her tiny hands and delicate frame, the sheer vitality that lived behind her eyes. Her smiles, an only too rare occurrence lately, settled him, stilling the spinning world around him.

Bobby suddenly found himself transfixed by the image she created, curled up in his favourite chair like she'd been doing it all her life. The worn leather caressed her curves and a strange warmth slowly unfurled within his chest as he allowed himself to imagine that it was an everyday occurrence, finding her like this … that she'd simply fallen asleep waiting for him to finish making supper or some other mundane thing. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to indulge his dearest fantasy … a life with Alex … not Eames, his partner, but Alex, the woman.

The only problem was that he actually knew very little about the woman who lived inside his partner and it drove him crazy. He wanted to know everything, no matter how small. Did she like to cook? Did sleep come easy for her or did she have to wind down with a book? Did she shower in the morning or did she prefer a long bath before bed? Was she happy? Eight years at her side and he'd never managed to see very far beyond the mask she put on everyday for the world.

His biggest failure.

Still, part of his ignorance was intentional. He never allowed himself to ask for more than she willingly offered. As much as he ached to know her… to really know her, he wouldn't let himself. Bobby was certain that she read his reticence as indifference and that it hurt her, but when it came down to it, he was a selfish bastard. Not knowing was safe. Not knowing was his last refuge for his heart when she finally got fed up and left. After all, knowing someone … loving someone, only made it that much worse when they eventually gave up on you.

Her hair had fallen in a curtain over her eyes, and Bobby needed to see her face. Giving into the impulse he'd suppressed for years, he carefully, slid his fingers through the strands. She was so much softer than he'd imagined. Slowly, and monitoring the cadence of her breath, Bobby slid the wayward hairs behind her ear.

Now that he'd made contact, he couldn't bring himself to pull away. His fingers slid from her hair, gently tracing the delicate shell of her ear. The warmth in his chest solidified into a dull ache as the lamplight glinted off the two diamond studs that accompanied the small hoop that matched the one in her other ear. The two little jewels mocked him, reminding him that she would always have parts of her life that he'd never fit into.

When they'd met, she'd only had the one diamond. He'd noticed it one rare day she'd let him drive. It had been late afternoon and the sun setting behind the skyscrapers had glinted off the earring, dancing into the corner of his vision through the rear-view mirror. He'd never asked her about it, sensing that whatever event she'd chosen to mark with the pain of piercing her ear was something she'd probably not want to share with her crazy new partner.

His suspicions had been confirmed about eight months later, but she'd surprised him by sharing her story over stale pretzels and warm beer in the back of some bar over on Fifth. She'd cautiously told him the story of her husband's murder the night they'd closed the book on their first cop killing. It had been obvious that it wasn't a story she'd told often, and Bobby'd felt this sense of … wonder that she'd chosen to share it with him after less than a year in each other's company. She'd explained that she'd told him so that he would know where she was coming from, so that he could understand her better and be better partners over the long haul. Her honesty and optimism had rocked him to his core. No one he'd worked with had ever suggested it would last. A few weeks later he'd told her about his mother and allowed himself to hope for the long haul.

Her second diamond had come during their third year together. She'd acted as surrogate for her sister, an act of complete selflessness he'd never be able to completely comprehend. During the entire pregnancy, all he could focus on was that the baby would take her away, that she would have to leave him; he would have to do this job without her. While she'd been gone, all he could think about was when she'd be coming back. Then one day, about a week after she had returned, he'd noticed it. The sparkle on her left ear was a little brighter and the shame in his heart at his utter selfishness had grown stronger.

Alex's soft sigh dragged him back to the present. Startled, he snatched his hand away, searching for any sign that she was waking up. When she didn't stir, he carefully released the breath he'd been holding and returned to his silent observation.

'_What do you dream about, Alex?'_

As though in answer to his silent musing, her breaths suddenly became shallow and faster. Her eyelids began to flutter with the onset of REM sleep. Any hope that her dreams would bring her peace were quickly dashed as a whimper was torn from her throat and she shrunk deeper into his chair. The dull ache in his chest throbbed painfully as he watched the nightmare overtake his partner.

His heart picked up pace, keeping time with her distress. Indecision rooted him to his spot. Years with his mother had taught him that not all nightmares ended upon waking. Frozen, he watched, helpless, as her hands clenched convulsively and her brow furrowed in response to some spectral pain. The throbbing ache became unbearable as he watched her silent suffering.

Her voice finally spurred him into action. A ragged "Bobby," was ripped from her throat and dragged him out of his useless stupor. Gently he cupped her face, swiping at stray tears with his thumbs.

"Eames," he whispered, hoping to bring her back gently. "Eames, I'm here, it's okay. Wake up."

His words only seemed to make it worse. Her arms suddenly thrashed at him and he grunted at the impact, never letting go of her face. This time his wasn't going to let go.

"Eames, it's alright. Eames!"

Her murmurings became more coherent. "Bobby, wait! No… Bobby …" Suddenly with a gasp, her eyes flew open, causing him to rock back on his heels in shock.

"Eames!" His relief was palpable as he watched her regain consciousness and her eyes began to focus.

Sucking in a deep breath, she registered her surroundings.

"Bobby?"

Now that his panic had subsided, Bobby couldn't help the grim smile that crossed his face. Even in her sleep, he caused her pain.

"I'm here."

He still hadn't let go of her face and for a brief moment, he felt her lean into his touch before recovering the distance they'd always held between them like a shield.

"You came back."

He wasn't sure if it was a question or a statement. Awkwardly, he released his hold on her, immediately missing her warmth.

"It's my apartment."

She looked away then, scanning the darkened room as though reminding herself where she was.

"Right."

"You wanna talk about it?" He knew he had no right to ask. They never talked about it, but then he'd never held her face in his hands and he felt like pushing the boundaries tonight. He felt reckless with the knowledge that he may never get the chance again.

"Bad dream." He knew he wouldn't get far, but then … "It was bright and hot and I couldn't breathe."

Bobby felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. _'She's dreaming about Tate's. She's dreaming my nightmares.'_

"I'm sorry," was out of his mouth before he could stop it, but she wasn't listening.

"I could feel you, Bobby," she continued, snagging his gaze with her luminous eyes. "I was trying to hold on, but …" Her irises were clouded with a sheen of moisture. "You just kept slipping away."

The waver in her voice tore through him, reminding him what a selfish bastard he was. The ache had become a burning, but he had to do this. She needed him to be strong for once. Holding her gaze steady and sure, he gave her what he should have a long time ago… her freedom.

"Maybe you should just let go."


	2. Chapter 2

**Together Alone**

_By Aquila_

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to Law & Order CI, just the thoughts in my head.

**Rating**: T, for strong language, especially in this chapter

**Summary**: "Maybe you should just let go." - Alex confronts Bobby after his stunt in Untethered.

**Spoilers: **Untethered, but pre-Purgatory

**Author's Notes**: Here's the second and final part, as promised. I still haven't seen Frame yet, so this was written as though everything since Untethered never happened. This went way further into romance territory than I ever expected, but these characters are hard to control.

As always, this is for Joy. Thanks for being the Toby to my Sam and always being there to bounce ideas off of.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

The click of a door swinging shut dragged her out of her stupor. Blinking dumbly, Alex surveyed the dim room before her. Bobby was gone.

Rescued from one nightmare, only to be dragged into another.

Pulling her legs out from underneath her, Alex sluggishly sat up straight and scanned the apartment more closely. The remnants of her dream still clung to her mind like lint and for a moment she wondered if her partner's appearance at her side had been yet another figment of her imagination. Still, her cheeks burned from the branding of his fingertips, leaving her certain that Bobby hadn't been a dream. However, now it appeared that he'd vanished into the shadows.

"Where the hell did you go, Goren?" Alex muttered as she clumsily massaged her throbbing temples.

Her eyes lit on his bedroom, the recently closed door betraying his location. This was not how she'd imagined her evening would play out. Alex didn't know what she'd expected, but her forty-something partner locking himself in his bedroom definitely wasn't on the list.

Alex was in no rush to chase after him. She'd been doing it for months and frankly, she was tired; tired of playing catch-up, tired of trying to get him to open up, tired of running interference … tired of trying to hold everything together.

'_Maybe you should just let go.'_

His last words to her sat heavily in the pit of her stomach, steadily churning all the feelings she'd kept so carefully closeted away into a maelstrom of emotion. Closing her eyes, Alex let the storm overtake her, revelling in the sudden ferocity of feeling after so many months of forced detachment. It had been building for nearly a year and now the wave was overwhelming. Finally released from her self-imposed tether, she let the fury build, layer upon layer, hoping the fire rushing through her veins would burn hot enough to melt the icy tendrils of fear that clawed at her heart.

She couldn't lose him, not now, not like this after all these years. She'd put all her eggs in one basket with him and his severing their connection now would shatter her. Alex knew that he was in this just as deep, but she also knew Bobby. She knew that his twisted sense of self-sacrifice was nearly pathological. She knew that if he believed that she was better off without him he would walk away in a heartbeat.

For a man with so much insight into the human psyche, Bobby could be infuriatingly blind.

Sucking in a deep breath, Alex pushed herself out of the chair and stormed towards the still-closed bedroom door. Before she could talk herself out of it, she twisted the doorknob violently and burst into the room.

"So that's it," she spat, hoping her sudden entrance would catch him off guard. Alex was itching for a fight, but her words died in her throat when she got a look at him.

Bobby sat stock still on the edge of the bed, presenting her with his profile. His shoulders were slumped, eyes unfocussed as he gazed silently at the wall. It was as though Bobby Goren had left the building, leaving the shell that sat before her. For a moment Alex deflated, sympathy welling in her chest, before she ruthlessly stamped it down. Sympathy wasn't going to fix this … fix them, not now.

Pulling herself up to her full height, she started again.

"So that's it, huh?" she repeated, her tone icy. "After eight years you're going to throw it all away with a 'It's been a slice, Eames, see ya.' Is that all I'm worth?"

Bobby still sat unmoving, seemingly oblivious to her tirade. However, her keen eye caught the barest flicker in his gaze, a nearly imperceptible flinch. She knew her words were hitting their mark. She just had to shoot harder. Gaining momentum, she pressed on.

"I never left, Bobby," she continued, her voice barely a pained whisper. "I'm still here."

Suddenly, Alex spread her arms wide. "It's been eight years, Bobby, and I'm still here!" This time his flinch was more noticeable and it fuelled the anger that was still burning inside her. "I never left … after all the crap we've been through, after all the … after everything, I'm still here and what, now you wanna end it? Eight years of partnership and suddenly it's not good enough?" Tears pricked at her eyelids and Alex fought valiantly to keep them in check. He didn't deserve to see her cry.

"Fine," she spat. "You wanna end it … fine! Then be a man and do it yourself, 'cause I'm not gonna do it for you. If you want to say goodbye, say goodbye, Bobby."

Alex struggled to keep the desperation out of her voice, but it crept in nonetheless, adding a ragged edge to her words. She just wanted a reaction; she needed a reaction … some sort of acknowledgement that she was even there, something, _anything_ to let her know that she wasn't alone, that the connection they'd shared for so long really wasn't dead.

But all she got was silence. Bobby still didn't move; he just continued to sit there, staring blankly at the wall. It was as though he'd flipped a switch and shut himself off. Alex was suddenly assaulted with memories of when her husband had finally succumbed to his injuries. The cold that had seeped into her heart when she'd realized he was gone echoed the ache that settled there now and it scared the hell out of her. Finally her fear and fury boiled over in a stream of hot tears that broke through the barrier of her lashes.

"Fuck you, Bobby," she hissed, as she backed clumsily out of the room, eyes clouded with unwanted tears, defeated by his stony silence and humiliated by her own lack of control. "If you're too much of a coward to end this, then you can go to Hell."

She finally got her response.

Suddenly, Bobby reared up off the bed and rounded on her, closing the distance between them in two large strides. His body practically vibrated with anger and frustration as he towered over her.

"D'you think this is easy for me?" he roared, his arms waving in an effort to corral his thoughts.

A big man on the best of days, Bobby suddenly seemed even larger and Alex was struck by the thought, _'This must be how a perp feels.' _Still, she refused to be swayed by the sheer force that all of a sudden seemed to emanate from him as he loomed over her like a predator poised to attack. She'd never been afraid of him before, even in his darkest moments and she wasn't about to start now. However, before she could respond, he cut her off, launching back into his rant.

"D'you think I like this? Dammit, Eames, you're the best thing in my life … always have been ... God ... I'm nothing without you."

His words shot through her like a hot knife, settling deep in her chest, sending a burning heat out from her core. Her importance to her partner had always been understood, but something they never actually talked about. He'd let her know from time to time, through little things like a hand to her back or a quick, affirming glance. Now and then he'd bring her coffee just the way she liked it or would offer to finish her paperwork. No, she'd never questioned her position in his life and their partnership, but to hear him put it like that was staggering. It also made his current behaviour that much more painful to bear.

"Then why give up?" she questioned, her voice quiet, almost pleading. "I've never given up, Bobby."

Her last words cut him to the quick like she knew they would. He hadn't been able to wall his heart off completely and Alex was fighting with her full arsenal. She couldn't afford to lose this argument.

Bobby sighed, shrinking back on himself and refusing to meet her gaze. His voice suddenly smaller, he answered, "Because you deserve better. You deserve to have a chance to move forward… to have a normal life."

Alex laughed bitterly. "That's bullshit, Bobby, and you know it."

His eyes swung back to hers and met her fire. Stepping further into his space, she continued, "If you'd get your head out of your ass and stop playing martyr for one minute, you might remember there are two of us in this partnership."

Her outburst shocked Bobby back into silence. He was still trying to feign indifference. She could see it in his eyes that he was still trying to maintain the wall he had built between them in the last year and she was damned if she was going to let him. She just had to push harder.

"You're pulling away because of you, not me," she continued. "I got used to people not seeing me when I'm next to you a long time ago." Bobby opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. "But now you're not seeing me, Bobby and it's scaring the hell out of me."

He'd been stabbed in the gut. That was the only explanation for the pain he felt at her words. Bobby finally forced himself to look at his partner … really look at her and the image only twisted the knife deeper. Eames looked worn, older suddenly. All his self-assurances that she'd be better off without him began to ring hollow. If he were truly honest with himself, she'd been without him for some time now and it obviously wasn't doing her any good.

Tears pricked at Alex's eyes and she ruthlessly beat them back. Having nowhere else to go, they found their way into her voice.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Bobby. I've stayed. I've tried to have your back, but you won't let me. You just keep pushing and pushing … taking cases too far, stepping too close to the edge and leaving me to pick up the pieces."

Bobby looked stricken as her words swirled around him in the dim light of the bedroom. He looked as though he'd finally seen himself through her eyes. _'Good,'_ she thought to herself. _'It's about time.'_

He awkwardly reached a hand out to her shoulder, but she stepped out of his reach. It had taken her months to build to this point and she refused to be mollified.

"D'you think it's easy for me?" she asked, her voice straining under the weight of her desperation. "D'you think I enjoy watching another man I love slowly die in front of me? 'Cause that's what you're doin', Bobby. You're dying if you keep going down this road and it _kills_ me to not be able to do a damn thing about it!" Her voice finally broke under the strain, shattering as her final words slipped from her throat.

Those last words hung in the silence that descended between them, save for Alex's ragged breaths as she fought desperately to regain her control. As the dust began to settle, her brain finally caught up with her mouth and it was Alex's turn to look stricken. She'd never meant to go that far … to throw herself off a cliff like that, not for anyone, not anymore and not for Bobby, especially now when she couldn't even be sure he would be able, or willing to catch her. She'd had her emotions under control for years. She'd kept her heart out of it, but apparently it had other plans, because now here she was with it on her sleeve, her wounds open and raw, with Bobby staring back at her like he'd never seen her before.

She had to get out of there … now. She had to retreat, lick her wounds and hope that when he finally left for good that she'd be able to find all the pieces of her heart when it shattered.

Muttering a string of curses under her breath, Alex spun on her heel and fled the room, fled the apartment, certain that she'd just screwed up any chance they had at putting what was left of their partnership back together.

Bobby couldn't breathe, he couldn't move. All he could do was stand there as the sheer weight of her words held him to the ground. His analytical mind couldn't help but marvel at how he could be simultaneously elated and devastated. She loved him and it was killing her. What the hell was he supposed to do with that?

Whatever it was, he was going to have to do something quick, because in the time it had taken him to blink, Eames had disappeared into the night, taking with her his last chance at anything resembling happiness.

* * *

Of course it was raining.

Wasn't that the quintessential cliché? Wasn't it always raining in chick-flicks when the girl came storming out of the guy's apartment? Alex thought she could almost hear the swell of a phantom string section over the pattering water as she trudged haplessly down the sidewalk to where she'd managed to find a parking space. Except this was no romantic comedy. There was nothing comic about it, in fact. This was very much real life and in this very much real life, Alex had managed to screw up any hope she'd ever had at fixing what was left of their partnership.

The longest relationship she'd ever had with a man, longer than even her marriage and it was all crashing down around her. Not exactly how she'd planned to end the night. She'd planned to knock some sense into her partner, to pull Bobby out of the dangerous spiral he was in and set their relationship on its way back to an even keel. Instead she'd knocked things so far out of orbit with one stupid, dumb-assed slip of the tongue that she seriously doubted they'd ever be able to find each other again.

Reaching her vehicle, Alex stopped with her hand on the door. Slowly, she tilted her head to the sky, letting the cold rain sluice over the flushed skin of her cheeks, washing away any tears that had dared escape her lashes. Blowing out a breath in frustration, she slid her key into the lock, the metal tines meeting more resistance than usual as she forced them home.

It was his ragged voice that stilled her hand. His tattered, "Eames, wait!" shot through her like hot lead, holding her to the spot, heart hammering in her throat. Sucking in a sharp breath, she dropped her head against the cool, wet glass of the driver's side door. She wasn't ready for this ... wasn't ready to face him, not with her wounds so raw, her weaknesses so close to the surface.

"Please ...Eames."

She sighed heavily, her warm breath fogging the glass beneath her. All Alex really wanted to do was to go home and nurse her battered heart in solitude. She wanted to crawl into bed with the hope that by morning they could pretend none of this had ever happened... hope that by morning they could just be _normal_ for once. Problem was, she knew that if they were ever going to get to anything resembling 'normal' again, they were going to have to deal with the giant elephant she'd just brought into the room.

Stepping back from the car, Alex stood still for a moment, letting fat, heavy raindrops slap against her face as she tried to regulate her breathing and regain some of her ire from earlier. Anger was the only thing that was going to help her keep her head on straight and get her through this with any of her heart intact. However, when Alex finally turned to face him, any fury that she'd managed to recapture flowed out of her, chasing the rain down the street into the gutters.

He looked smaller somehow.

Bobby approached her slowly, cautiously, like she was a deer or something, ready to bolt at the slightest misstep. This was exactly why she'd resolved a long time ago never to use the 'L' word with Bobby. She knew it would make things weird and she was way too old for 'weird'. In fact, his newfound wariness was pissing her off.

Biting back what felt like the hundredth sigh of the evening, Alex ventured, "Bobby, I'm cold and tired and getting soaked at the moment. Can we just deal with this... whatever it is in the morning?"

Her words seemed to snap him back to reality and Bobby gazed at her incredulously.

"You tell me you love me and you want me to forget about it until tomorrow?"

Alex chuckled mirthlessly in response. "Sure, after everything I've said to you tonight, you focus on that part."

Bobby answered her short laugh with one of his own. "Well, it's not like it's something I hear often, so forgive me for holding onto whatever I can get."

Alex couldn't help the hot prick of sadness that stung her heart. She forgot from time to time just how alone in life her partner really was. Still, that oversight was at least partially intentional. Forgetting was what allowed her to maintain the mask of professional detachment that had got her through each day for the last few years. Forgetting just how much they'd woven their way into each other's lives allowed her to keep things from getting weird.

Apparently, one could only forget for so long.

She opened her mouth to answer, to try and get their conversation back onto its original track and force him to face his self-destructive behaviour, but Bobby cut her off before she could form any words.

"I can't just leave it, Eames ... Alex. I mean, you told me you love me and that it's killing you. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?"

Alex wondered if she looked as much the fish out of water as she suddenly felt, eyes wide and mouth open as her brain tried to make sense of what her partner had just said. Suddenly the pieces fell into place and she couldn't help the somewhat relieved smile that played at the corner of her lips. With all his quirks and eccentricities, Alex forgot that Bobby was still a man and like most men, sometimes he just didn't listen.

Before either of them could screw things up any further, Alex closed the distance between them, silencing any future words with a gentle hand on his cheek.

Then things really got weird.

For the first time in their eight years together, Bobby went utterly still. Her fingers absently traced his jawline and despite the cold rain that slicked their skin, a pervasive warmth trickled from her nerve endings, spreading through her body, only to be completely overwhelmed by the hot flood of awareness that followed when he finally met her gaze.

'Normal' was going to have to be redefined.

Swallowing against her heart that had somehow lodged itself in her throat, Alex forced herself to focus.

"Bobby," She faltered as he brushed a wet strand of hair from her forehead. "Bobby, loving you is not what's killing me." Her mind rebelled at voicing her feelings out loud, but she forced herself to continue. "What's killing me is watching you practically destroy yourself."

Bobby visibly deflated at her words, sagging against her touch as the still-driving rain seemed to drag him down. He closed his eyes, again unable to meet her gaze.

"Alex, I ... I just don't know what else to do."

Alex cupped his face in both hands forcing him to look at her. "For one thing, you can come to me. I ... I know I'm not exactly the poster child for sharing, but I'll always listen. You can always come to me and I'll listen."

"No," Bobby shook his head, trying to break her hold. "No, Alex. You don't want to hear ... my head's a pretty dark place sometimes."

Alex was not about to be swayed. She may have never thought they'd get to this point, but now that they were there, there was no way in Hell she was giving up now. "I'm not afraid of the dark, Bobby," she replied quietly. "And I'm not afraid of you."

He muttered something under his breath that sounded very much like "You should be," but she chose to ignore it. "You know, it's not like you've got the market cornered on troubled psyches. My mind's got a lot of dark corners too. There's a lot there ..." Alex's words stuck in her throat as memories of her kidnapping, her husband's death, her surrogacy and the daily traumas that characterized her life as a detective threatened to rob her of breath. Maintaining her trademark flippant tone was impossible. "There's a lot I've never really talked about."

A few minutes ago, she couldn't get him to look at her. Now, her partner's gaze was unrelenting. She should have felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny, should have backed away like they always did when things got too intense. Instead, all she could do was stare back, volumes passing between them. In the dim glow of the dirty streetlamp, Alex watched with gaining hope as the storm which had blackened his already dark eyes for the last few months cleared ever so slightly. Her heart ached with all she knew she was going to have to tell him, but she also knew that if they were ever going to heal ... if they were ever going to find a new version of 'normal', they were going to have to explore each other's shadows together.

"Bobby," she whispered, her gaze still tethered to his. Carefully, she dropped her hands to his chest, resting her palm over his heart, feeling its rapid rhythm match her own. "The only way this is gonna work is if we face this together. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared, but I'm more scared of where we'll end up if we don't." She sucked in a deep breath before making the final leap. "I want to move forward … and I want to do it with you."

Alex was searching his eyes for any sign of rejection when his eyelids suddenly slipped closed and Bobby leaned forward with a sigh, dropping his forehead to hers. She leaned into his warmth as his gentle breaths caressed her face.

"You really do love me?" he asked, his voice barely audible against her lips.

She smiled gently as she nodded against him, her rain-soaked skin sliding against his. "Have for a while now."

Alex felt him smile in response. "Yeah, me too ..." he answered, his voice a rasp against her ear. "Loved you, I mean." It was as though all the tension in his body flowed out of him with his words and he relaxed against her, dropping his hands to her hips and gently nuzzling her cheek.

She chuckled softly. "I knew what you meant, Bobby." Alex did her best to sound unaffected, but her heart was threatening to beat its way out of her chest.

The rain still poured down around them as they stayed still, drinking in each other's warmth. Eventually, Bobby's arms found their way around Alex's waist, carefully drawing her into his body. She came willingly, tucking her hands under his sodden coat and nearly melting into him as they revelled in their newfound freedom to take comfort in each other. Alex lost track of time as she turned and rested her cheek against his chest, her breaths keeping time with his.

It was because of this that she was quick to notice when Bobby's brain finally caught up with his heart. She could feel it building within him as his mind began piling back up the doubts and fears, kicking his pulse into an erratic tattoo and stringing tension throughout his muscles.

However, before he could speak, before he could let the darkness overwhelm him again, Alex reached up on her toes and silenced any words with a brief, but intense kiss.

"Bobby," she whispered against his lips. "Can we move this inside before we catch pneumonia?"

She couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips as she watched him struggle to catch up to her train of thought. Suddenly, the creases in his brow smoothed out and understanding dawned across his features. He realized what she was doing and he was going to let her do it. He was going to let her force him to put his fears back on the shelf for now. He was going to let her ignore the crap they both knew they'd have to deal with eventually and move forward on what was likely going to be a long road.

Bobby gave her his best quizzical look and answered, "You know Eames, that's just an old wives' tale. You can't get pneumonia from being out in the rain."

Alex arched her eyebrow in response. "Humour me."

An honest to God smile bloomed across his face as he slipped an arm around her shoulders. "M'Kay."

She couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her throat as she leaned into his embrace and allowed him to steer them back towards his apartment. The cold, driving rain was quickly forgotten as after eight years of walking side by side, they took their first steps together.

* * *


End file.
